


Before We Unpack

by egocentrifuge



Series: Another We (RandL OC Fics) [7]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Pining, Roach Doesn't Get It, curious, not yet, now how is seaborne an existing tag but roach isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 23:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: It’s always been them, the two of them, Seaborne and Roach. They had each other. They’re good at picking each other up, dusting off, moving on. So then –“Why would you want to leave? I don’t understand.” Seaborne’s always loved explaining things, but he doesn’t look up from where he’s tucking his socks away.“I know you don’t."





	Before We Unpack

Seaborne pushes his hair behind his ear, a delicate motion that reminds Roach of Gina. He’s still sporting his previously acknowledged mustache, but honestly, it’s done nothing for Seaborne’s masculinity. Not that that’s a bad thing – no, Roach’d kick the ass of anyone who said it was. But that delicate nature is always there, shining through in each precise motion of Seaborne’s wrists as he he packs his suitcase.

“You can’t leave,” Roach says. It seems worth saying; it’s the truth. But Seaborne shakes his head and breathes out a sigh.

“I can,” he says. Two words that shake Roach’s world down to its foundation.

It’s always been them, the two of them, Seaborne and Roach. They had each other. Through school – not always the coolest kids, but never friendless – through all the failed businesses. Sure, it’d all gone to shit, but they knew how to deal with that. They’re good at picking each other up, dusting off, moving on. So then –

“Why would you want to leave? I don’t understand.” Seaborne’s always loved explaining things, but he doesn’t look up from where he’s tucking his socks away.

“I know you don’t,”

he says. Instead of the simple statement it should be the words sound like they cost Seaborne something – Roach is glad. It should hurt, Seaborne  _should_  struggle with this, because he’s destroying fucking everything and where before there’d been shock Roach is starting to burn. He observes himself stepping forward and slamming the lid of the suitcase down as if he’s not the one doing it; Roach feels like maybe he isn’t.

It’s always been Seaborne and Roach. Without the Seaborne, what even is he?

 _A jerk,_  Roach thinks, staring down at Seaborne. He’s holding his ground for now but his face his turned away, to the floor. _A bully._

Roach has always had Seaborne there to keep him in check. If he’s supposed to start living on his on, Roach needs to find a way to do it himself.

When Roach lifts his hands, Seaborne flinches. Roach flinches, too, wavers, hopes for the adrenaline to move him like it had before. But in the end it falls to him to close that last distance. Seaborne’s shudder reverberates through Roach, this time, through Roach’s palms on either side of Seaborne’s face. It takes half a dozen painful heartbeats for Seaborne to stop fighting, for him to finally let Roach guide him so he can’t look away. Seaborne’s eyes are red, but he’s not crying.

Well. That makes one of them.

“Don’t ask me to stay,” Seaborne rasps, and Roach can feel the sob working its way up his throat. It’s freed by the brush of Seaborne’s fingers, feather-light, against the back of Roach’s hand. A shaky question comes with it:  _“Why?”_

“Because I will.”

Roach wants to shake Seaborne, wants to shout in his face, but the only thing he can make himself do is suck up the tears, ask, “Is that so bad?”

It’s him keeping Seaborne from hiding his face, so it’s his own fault that Roach sees the pain in Seaborne’s eyes, the - anguish.

“You’re happy. And I’m happy for you, I am, but – ” Seaborne’s lilting voice cracks; his eye close, then reopen wet. “I can’t watch you get married, get a dog, a picket fence, two-point-five kids – ”

“You can have that, too.”

Roach can feel Seaborne shaking where he’s holding him. It’s a surprise his teeth aren’t chattering, but then, if Seaborne is half as warm as Roach is he can’t remember what it’s like to feel cold. He’s still not crying, not like Roach is, but there’s two tear tracks down his cheeks that look like they’ve been carved there.

There’s that brush of fingers against Roach’s again, then Seaborne is stepping back, slipping from Roach’s grasp.

“I can’t,” he says. “I can’t have that life, Roach, not while you’re in mine. Do you understand?”

Seaborne tucks his hair back where it’s shaken loose from its moorings, looks at Roach like a drowning man. Roach doesn’t know how to save him, not yet, but there’s only one way to get the time to figure it out.

“Stay,” he decides. “Please, stay with me.”

Seaborne’s face crumples and Roach is glad, so fucking glad, because before he folds in on himself Roach sees him nod. It’s terrible, that Seaborne finally sobbing like Roach has been is a relief, but Roach knows who he is as long as Seaborne’s around.

“Out,” Seaborne snarls. “Get out, go.”

Roach hesitates. “You’ll be here tomorrow?”

Seaborne shakes his head, more in disbelief than a denial.

“I’ll be here,” he says, a promise for all its vitriol. “Go.”

When Roach goes, he takes Seaborne’s suitcase with him.

Realizes, later, he took Seaborne's heart as well.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at egocentrifuge dot tumblr dot com


End file.
